A chuckle erupts from my throat.Yes, I’m right on the edge of madness, to laugh at this predicament.But I can’t deny that it makes a bizarre kind of sense.
Richard Tomlinson, a demon.
I always knew there was something off about him—I just didn’t knowhowoff.
So who to trust?
Not my father.Sure, he’s my blood, but he uses me for his dirty work.He’d be here seducing Rogan himself if the wolf liked men.
Can I trust Rogan?My so-called mate?
He brought me here, told me to search the place, which means…
He could definitely be working with Richard, but if that’s the case, why does Richard want me to prove Rogan is behind the vamp murders?
They can both go to hell.
I gather all my strength and attempt to stand, my hands curled into fists.“Where the hell am I?”
“Easy, Hannah,” Richard says.“It’ll be a few hours before you’re back in prime working order.”
“What did you put in my body?”
“Nothing that will do any permanent damage.”
“And I’m supposed to take your words at face value?”
“You can think what you want of me,” he says.“You will anyway, and it’s no secret that I’m not your biggest fan.But you are your mother’s daughter, and I’d never do anything to hurt her.”
“You already have, you degenerate.You’re a goddamned demon!”
“A demon who your mother loves.A demon who treats your mother better than your vampire father ever did.”
I can’t fault his words.They’re true.
My mother.She’s brilliant—a damned Fulbright scholar.How can she be so unwise when it comes to love?Excellent choices—a gay vampire with a mean streak and a demon with an even meaner streak who blinded her to everything except him.
I plunk my ass back down.I’m not going anywhere for a few hours.
“Tell me,” I say.“Why do you care about implicating Rogan—or anyone else—in a string of vamp murders?What does it matter to you?”
“It matters to demons.”
“Why?”
“You’re a smart girl.Figure it out for yourself.”
I will.Once my brain is fully functional again.For now, though— “Why you?Why are you doing this dirty work for your kind?”
He stays quiet a moment—a moment that makes prickles skitter over my flesh.Something’s brewing in that evil mind of his.
Something I’m not going to like.
Not that I have a chance of liking anything about him.I’d rather swim in alcohol and razor blades than have one good feeling toward this man.
“You going to answer me any time this century?”I ask.
“It’s my duty to see that my kind are taken care of,” he finally says.